Made carrot crumb bread with cinnamon and cranberries yesterday. Locally grown carrots. That’s my berry/peach jelly on it, too. Yum with cardamon in my coffee this morning. Meanwhile, I make art in between prepping for next semester and other things swirling around, scholarly and otherwise. On my desk is none other than Zora Neale Hurston… Continue reading musings
I liked how the pickles I made turned out. I love even more the relish I made today from some of them. They are so good on garlic crackers. It’s beginning to feel like summer in Tuscaloosa – finally.
This image is part of my journey inside academe. It is a snapshot of a video taken by a classmate at the 2005 premiere of “Makes You Happy,” a 21-minute choreopoem I wrote and directed that premiered at the Broach Theatre as part of the Greensboro, NC, 3rd Annual Fringe Festival. Linkages exist between this… Continue reading progress
Hope I have not watered this little fella too much. It’s been a week since I got it from my dear friend Lane McClelland. We toasted last week to her earning her doctorate and my earning tenure. It’s been moment after moment of smiles with good souls including one person to whom we wish… Continue reading musings
Trashed picked art has history that blew us away. Meanwhile, reorganized my home office as I do at the end of every semester. Ancestors and Zora representing in front of old 45 of a Diana Ross tune. And lavender growing nicely for a second year. Life is good.
I showed the rest of Jimi Hendrix: Electric church, a documentary, to my “American Civilization Since 1865” students who are interested in exploring the limitations and possibilities of postwar prosperity with the experiences of Hendrix, a guitarist who just happened to be African American, in mind. After class, I walked with a student who plans to… Continue reading electric church
Less than fifty days left until the new school year begins. Much on my plate as I sort through so much. The hibiscus reminds me of my beginnings in Miami. Old documents remind me of the sacrifices of my parents and those from whom we descend. Seagrape leaves make me remember a past that is… Continue reading musings